I have spent the past 10 days of my baseball life awash in excitement.
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| Royals shorstop Tony Pena Jr. just isn't that flashy. (US Presswire) |
It is said that the Rays' young players are very exciting because they run fast, strike the ball hard and, as opposed to last year's model, glove everything within a 35-yard radius.
Baltimore's Adam Jones has been labeled very, very exciting, owing both to his obvious athletic gifts and the ever-unquantifiable "jolt of energy" he provides.
Jose Reyes legging out a triple is, I'm told, the most exciting entity in professional sports that doesn't involve Jose Canseco, dueling brunettes and a mouthy process server.
I mostly agree. Give me a Rays game over any contest that doesn't feature my hometown underachievers or maybe the Diamondbacks. I'm on board with the Jones hype; a few years from now, we'll look at the Jones-for-Erik Bedard deal as the one that set the flailing Orioles back on course. My enthusiasm for Reyes' wild scampers around the bases has been tempered by my frustration with his dismissive, Albert Belle-like jogs to first on pop-ups and easy groundouts. But yeah, those track-meet triples remain joyous and, of course, exciting.
Thus it's established: Baseball players often do very, very, very exciting stuff and excitement is in the eye of the beholder, or something. But what about their differentially abled peers? What about the slow of foot, the less-than-swift of swing? For every Gretzky-smooth Justin Upton glide into the right-center gap, the universe must demand that Jack Cust unearth a huge clump of sod while abortively tracking a pop fly, right?
In the wake of my blizzard of baseball excitement, I set out to find the game's least exciting players. It didn't take a lot of searching.
It turns out that Major League Baseball is populated by many slow, clumsy or otherwise unathletic individuals (by pro sports standards, not by Larry standards), who do precious little that prompts happy hollers or pumped fists.
The players below, ranked in order of declining excitingness-itude, might be thoughtful, hard-working teammates. They might be ideal dinner-party guests, quick to help with the dishes or toss out a colorful anecdote about that time they met Toby Keith.
But on the field, they're slugs. To watch them play is to watch an armless man type. Their teammates take bathroom breaks during their at-bats and run errands during their starts. They do less to entertain us than the average street mime, or even Jimmy Fallon. In short, they are Grady Sizemore in reverse.
9. Andruw Jones, Los Angeles Dodgers: The tasks he no longer completes with much distinction include running, hitting and fielding. Sure, he still enjoys the Gold Glove reputation -- ask regular Derek Jeter watchers just how long that rep can stick, no matter what a player does on the field to betray it –- but Jones' bloated torso and knobby knees have negated whatever little athleticism he has left. But for the 'u' in Andruw, even his name would be boring.
8. Miguel Cairo, Seattle Mariners: It feels as if Cairo has been littering baseball benches for decades, but the guy recently turned only 34. Do the ESPN birth-certificate vigilantes hire themselves out for spot checks? Anyway, Cairo's value, such as it is, derives from his ability to play multiple infield positions marginally well. "Marginal" would be the greatest compliment his bat has received, and it ain't like he alters the complexion of close games with his speed or glove.
